


Epilogue

by Anonymous



Series: It's a crack ship [2]
Category: Political RPF
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Break Up, But it's only implied, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Fluff, Funny, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, References to Depression, Trouble In Paradise, idk - Freeform, is it really though?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After the events of the first book, Joe Biden and Donald Trump are happily together and in love. But that all changes when Joe finds a little white colored house in the snow while on a date with Donald. They get into a fight over who should get the house, and Donald calls Joe a cheater and refuses to admit he's wrong.The couple refuses to talk to one another.Will they be able to make up? Will Donald admit defeat and apologize? Will the author succumb to insanity and start to actually ship two president's?All this and more in the epilogue.
Relationships: Barack Obama/Mike Pence, Joe Biden/Donald Trump, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: It's a crack ship [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096169
Comments: 12
Kudos: 10
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen--- this is the continuation you all deserve, but don't need. It's months later. But here we are. I know that I've lost my sanity writing this, please don't read it and lose yours.

The sun barely filtered in through the closed plush curtains of the mountainside hotel. Despite the heavy snow that coated the ground, the room was toasty and underneath the blankets was akin to heaven. 

Donald resisted rising to consciousness, too comfortable and content to break to the spell of peace that had been cast upon the sleeping pair. He lay comfortably on Joe's firm chest, his head tucked under the other man's chin. As he battled to stay asleep he felt the arms across his back tighten slightly and heard a soft exhale of a sigh from above. 

Time seemed to fade away, and reality itself meshed with the world of dreams. The couple had nowhere to be until later in the day, and there was no rush to awaken. 

This was how they had spent the past couple of days, wrapped up in one another, without a care in the world. They would awake together, their body's entwined in the night until it was impossible to tell where one body started and the other ended. Then they would spend the early hours of the morning together. Later in the day, they would venture out into the mountains to partake in various activities.

On the agenda that day was a picnic. But before they ventured into the heavy snow for that, they would have time to enjoy each other's company in the warm cacoon they had created. 

Through the fog of content that had encaptured Donald's mind, he felt fingers running through his hair gently. Finally deciding to allow himself to wake up, he chuckled lightly.

"Good morning beautiful." He hummed, twisting his head to meet Joe's still closed eyes.

While he waited for a response, he studied his partners sleep riddled face. It was highlighted by the sparse morning light, a small smile gracing the overall pleasant features.

"Mmm. Is it really morning already?" Joe hummed, his fingers still running through Donald's hair in relaxing motions.

"I can tell you most definitely it is." 

"Hmm." Joe refrained from further comment, happy to simply lay with his love and hold him.

After a while, he stretched out languidly, pushing the last dregs of sleep from his body. As he sat up, he pulled Donald's body up with him, so that the sat chest to chest.

He felt Donald's head fall softly onto his shoulder as the other man tried to wake up.

That sat that way for a while, enjoying one another's presence. After a while, the warmth began to seep out of their bodies and into the cold air. Joe shivered minutely as a cold draft swept through the room, causing Donald to look up. 

With a devious smile, he leaned in a whispered, "You know, if you're cold..." 

Joe shivered again, for an entirely different reason, before pitching forward.

-

Hours later, they were getting dressed to go out. Their room was no longer cold after the steam from the hot shower had floated in from the bathroom. However, both men were still dressing for the cold, under several layers of thick clothing. 

Across the room, Donald watched as Joe pulled on his final coat and stood. Turning to face his lover, Joe smiled. 

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing. Just watching you."

"I would have thought you've done that enough already." To emphasize his point, Joe adjusted the scarf on his sore neck. 

"Not yet," Donald smirked before standing and stretching his body upwards. "You ready to go?" He asked.

"Yeah, just let me grab the key. Do we already have the picnic basket in the car?" 

"That and everything else we could need." 

"Alright." Joe opened the door and held it wide for Donald to walk through. 

They walked in the empty hallway, hands twined together. When they got to the lobby, both men pulled their jacket hoodies tighter around their heads and prepared to open the door. 

The cold air was like a sharp slap to the face, but luckily the wind was calm. Joe rushed to the car, unlocking it and hopping into the driver's seat as Donald took in the winter wonderland that was the mountains. As he began walking to the car, Joe rushed to blast the heating, flinching at the freezing air coming from the vents. It would be a couple of minutes before the car was habitable, so for now he settled for blowing into his hands.

When the passenger door opened, more cold air flooded the car, and Donald quickly hopped in, apologizing for the wait. 

Joe brushed off his words, and pulled out of the parking lot, sighing as the air slowly warmed up.

The drive up the sloping roads of the mountains went by quickly, an amicable silence filling the car as both men tried to force the slightly warmer air to seep into their bodies. 

When they arrived at the cliff near to the top of the mountain hosting a small camping area, Joe slowly parked the car but hesitated to turn it off.

"It's gonna be so cold out there." He murmured.

"That's why we brought the firewood," Donald replied excitedly. Without warning, he opened his door and got out of the now freezing car. 

Joe sat in shock, trying to adjust to the cold as his partner went to the truck and began to pull out their things.

Begrudgingly, he got out of the car to help. Wanting a fire sooner rather than later, he pulled the firewood over to the fire pit and pulled off its cover. Despite his lack of experience, he quickly built the fire and lit it using his lighter and a roll of newspaper. 

Donald placed a thick picnic blanket near the fire and came up behind Joe, startling the slightly smaller man when he wrapped his arms around Joe's shivering frame and resting his head on the curly brown hair.

"This was a bad idea," Joe muttered, leaning back into the warm body while holding his hands near the fire. 

"It was your idea. I said we should go on the snow lift."

Joe remained silent, glaring at the fire. Finally, with a soft chuckle, Donald moved back and began to unpack the picnic box. Firstly, he grabbed the milk and pot and set them above the fire to warm up. 

Turning around, Joe began to help.

The picnic was pleasant and sweet; full of teasing and hand feeding. Despite his complaints, Joe enjoyed the beautiful view of the entire mountain range laid out below them, and Donald enjoyed the view of his boyfriend enjoying the view.

As the sun began to set much too early, they began packing everything up and putting it back into the car. Learning their lesson, they started the car a few minutes early to ensure it would be warm. The temperature was quickly falling even lower, so they allowed the fire to burn until everything was safely in the car.

As he walked over to put out the fire finally, Joe noticed something sticking out of the ground, reflecting the setting sun. Intrigued, he put out the fire and went to pick it up.

"What're you doing babe?" Donald called from by the car.

"There's something in the snow!" He called back. He picked it up, and to his surprise found himself holding a tiny ceramic house.

Donald wondered over, curious, and peered over Joe's shoulder. 

"Well, will you look at that! That is the best little house I've ever seen!" He exclaimed.

Joe simply turned it in his hands, awed at the craftmanship of the white-colored house. After a while of staring at it, he pocketed it and turned to Donald with a smile. 

"We should get going before it's too late. These roads will be dangerous soon."

They walked back to the car and carefully pulled into the small mountain road. The ride was filled with soft laughter and jokes as music played in the background. 

By the time they arrived back at the hotel, the sun had set, and silence had descended on the car as Joe focused on the road. 

Far from being tired, the couple enjoyed their last night in the mountains vigorously, knowing they won't be able to spend this much time together for a while.

When the morning comes, they reluctantly packed their things and drive back home, but allowed themselves to enjoy the ride. Even the lingering winter cold wasn't enough to dampen their spirits as they sang along to songs and cracked jokes at one another.

Joe pulled into Donald's parking space, beside the other man's large Jeep, and leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

"I'll help you bring your things in." He promised.

"You can't stay?" Donald was looking at Joe with his best puppy dog face, silently begging for more time together.

"I should go home... I need to start lesson planning for the coming semester." 

Donald didnt reply, opting to continue gazing into his partner's face imploringly. 

Joe chuckled softly. "Okay, I'll stay for a little bit, but I really should go home soon." He conceded.

Donald lit up, "Thanks, babe!" He said happily before hopping out of the car to get his things. Joe helped him bring them in, and they left the bags by the door carelessly.

A few hours later, they layed in Donald's bed, smiles on both their faces. 

Although he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep where he was, Joe eventually sat up and stretched. 

"I really should get going." He said softly as his fingers trailed up and down Donald's back. 

Without opening his eyes, Donald caught the other's hand. "Stay." 

"You know I can't." 

Donald sighed. "Alright, I'll walk you out." 

Both men sat up and got dressed, Joe borrowing some of Donald's clothes out of necessity. 

When they got to the car, Donald noticed the little house from before sitting in the cup holder of Joe's door. He leaned in for a kiss, and when his partner got into the car, he decided to speak.

"You planning on keeping the little house?" He asked, gestering towards it.

Joe looked at it in surprise, then chuckled as he caught Donald's mischievous look. "Yeah, I am. Why? Do you want it?" He teased.

Donald's spark of competitiveness suddenly blazed up, and he grinned. 

"Maybe. What's it to you?" He said, leaning into the car slightly.

"How about this. I'll play you for it, winner gets to keep the house." Joe mimicked Donald's movement, leaning slightly closer himself.

"What's the game?" Donald said softly, staring at Joe's lips.

With a laugh, Joe looked at his boyfriend in the eyes and said, "Rock paper scissors. Best one 3 out of 5 wins." 

Donald's face clouded over a moment in disappointment before he smiled again and laughed.

"Alright, you have a deal." 

In sync, they chanted, "Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT!"

Joe threw the paper.

Donald threw the rock.

Joe's hand rested on top of Donald's victoriously, and he laughed quickly.

"I win." He grinned. Donald felt that same spark of competitiveness flare once again. He set his face, determined to win not for the house itself, but for the sake of winning.

The next round Donald won, and he felt a burst of pride at winning the senseless game. He grinned at Joe, who was laughing at his partner's energy. 

Donald also won the next round. "If I win this next one, the house is mine." He beamed, stealing a quick kiss from Joe before setting up for the next round. 

Joe chuckled, failing to realize just how dedicated Donald was to winning any competitions he found himself in. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT!" They said together once again. 

Joe's hands formed scissors that pretended to cut the paper hand Donald had formed. Donald glowered at the other man, feeling as though his pride was been threatened.

"And if * I* wins this next round, the house is mine." Joe parroted back, too caught up in the romantic bliss to catch his partner's slipping mood.

Stealing himself, Donald vowed to win the next round. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT!"

Triumphantly, Donald revealed his hands as a pair of scissors, but to his surprise, Joe had formed a rock. The other man had won.

"Haha! There you have it, the house is mine!" Joe bragged before leaning in to kiss his boyfriend one last time.

Donald stood stiffly, realizing how irrationally angry his loss had made him. 

Without meaning to, he avoided the kiss and glared at Joe. "You cheated." He accused.

Joe leaned back in confusion, suddenly realizing that the atmosphere was off. 

"What?"

"You cheated. So you could win." Donald said. He wasn't thinking over the roar of his wounded pride. 

"No, I didn't." Joe scrutinized his face, his own showing confusion. 

"Yes, you did. You cheated and the house is mine." 

All Joe could do was stare at the man in front of him. He suddenly felt his anger rear its nasty head. 

"Fine. Take it." He picked up the house and threw it at Donald's head before slamming his car door and roaring the engines. Before either had time to process what had happened Joe was pulling out of the lot and driving off.

On the drive back, Joe refused to acknowledge his ringing phone, too angry to even look over at it.

When he got home, he grabbed his bags and dumped them in the living room before calling his best friend, Barack. 

"Hey uh, Joe, how was the trip?" Barack asked, a suggestive lilt in his voice. 

"Donald's a child," Joe said without explanation. He tossed himself onto the couch with an exasperated sigh. 

"What? What uh happened Joey?" 

"The whole trip was fine. Great even. But last night I found this little house in the snow," he paused, unable to believe what he was saying, "it looked cool so I grabbed it yeah?"

"Yeah?" Barrack's voice betrayed his confusion.

"Well, after we got back, I spent some time at his place,"

"Spent some uh time at his place?" Even though he couldn't see him, Joe could hear his friend wagging his eyebrows.

"Shut up. I was getting into my car to go, and we played rock paper scissors to see who would keep the house."

"But you found it."

"Yeah, I know. It wasn't that big of a deal. But for some reason, he got really mad when he lost, and said I cheated??"

"Well did you?"

"No! But he was throwing a tantrum so I just gave him the house and left." 

"You should have kept it, you won it fair and square." Barack sounded slightly miffed now.

"Yeah well. He can keep it until he decides to stop being a baby and apologize."

"You should talk to him. You're mad but that won't fix anything." 

"Well, you know what else won't fix anything? Calling me a cheater and getting mad over a random trinket."

"Still, you should be the bigger man and talk to him about this. Maybe something else is wrong?"

"I doubt it. Anyways, I'm don't with this. What's been up with you?"

"Nothing much honestly, I've just been enjoying the break before the next semester."

"You talked to Mike?" Joe joked.

"I talk to Mr. Pence a normal amount of time I'll have you know." Barack rebuttal.

"Uhuh. Have either of you made a move?" 

"Hush, he doesn't see me like that and you know it."

"That's rich. We all know you guys are in love with each other, why not just get together?"

"Says you!"

-

In his flat, Donald just so happened to be having a near-identical argument with his own best friend, Mike. 

"I'm not bisexual Donald!" Mike screeched for the millionth time.

"I'm not buying it!" Donald retorted with a cackle. "You can't just talk about the sound of someone's voice for half an hour and pretending you're not pining."

"It wasn't that long! And Barack just happens to have a very nice voice-"

"Not really." Donald was grinning at this point, knowing his friend would take offense to that. Anything said against the professor was quickly dismantled, and the speaker corrected.

"Yes, he does! It's like velvet Donald, I've never heard a voice like that. And when he laughs its-"

"Micheal, listen. No straight man talks about another man like that." 

"Well, I know you certainly say much worse things about Mr. Biden."

"Ouch. Let's not talk about that right now." Donald looked at his wall, trying to forget how Joe's face had fallen, quickly replaced with hot anger as he drove away.

"Trouble in paradise?" 

"You could say that." Although he knew perfectly well he had caused the problem, Donald opted not to bring it up. He didn't want to admit his mistake, and would rather ignore the issue it had caused. He knew he had falsely accused Joe of cheating, but admitting that meant admitting he was wrong and that he had lost.

"What happened?"

Donald sighed. 

"We found this little house trinket while we were on a picnic, and when we got back we played rock paper scissors for it. He cheated to win and we got mad at each other." 

Donald tried not to think too hard about what he was saying.

"Oh. Sounds like something else was wrong then. You should talk to him." Mike sounded reluctant over the phone, confusion laced in his voice.

"No way! Not until he admits he cheated to win!" Donald was now actively glaring at the spot on the wall.

"Why's it matter that much? It's just a house. So what if he took it?" 

"He didn't... He gave me the house before driving off." Donald admitted.

"Then what's the issue?"

He didn't know what to say to that. 

What *was* the issue? Donald had gotten the house. He had won the game. So why couldn't just apologize? Why was the idea of admitting he was in the wrong so horrible? 

He felt his throat close as he pictured Joe's face when he admitting his fault. Bile rose from his stomach as the sound of Joe's anger was conjured in his mind's eye. 

There was no way he was doing that.

"He's a cheater Mike. I'm not going to talk to a cheater. If he wants to admit he cheated and apologize, we can move on. But I'm not taking the first step."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'ma be honest- i was tearing up a bit at this one-  
> It was supposed to have a couple more scenes but this was already so long, so I'll try to get the second half out by sometime tonight.  
> One of my friends said something to me, and I'll sum it up with this quote from them to me: "the abyss is political erotica." Now this is very true for me because 😌-  
> Nono but really I fear that I'm falling a little too deep into this crack fic-   
> Also Ben Shapiro is trans. I didn't say it because I couldn't find a way too but. He is. Your welcome.

The following days were filled with deafening radio silence from both ends. Joe refused to make the first move because he believed he was in the right; Donald because he couldn't admit he was wrong. 

Despite how horrible both men's moods became, they went about their lives, ignoring the hole where the other was meant to be. 

Donald was out with friends, trying to enjoy the hole in a wall cafe Ben Shapiro had found. Ted Cruz and Mitch Mcconnell usually preferred to go to more upscale places but didn't mind the occasional "poor person dine-in" if the food was good enough. 

His friends could tell something was wrong, but he didn't bring it up, and Mike didn't explain when they threw questioning glances at Donald's best friend. 

"So anyways, hypothetically, all I'm saying is that if you look at the data-" Ben was going on about his latest spur of the moment fixation, and the others were doing their best to understand him. 

"Why'd you stop?" Tucker asked as Ben went quiet. Donald followed his gaze to see a short woman walking up to the counter of the cafe. The others looked over, and suddenly Mitch let out a wet laugh.

"You're looking at her the way Donald looks at Joe!" A round of laughter followed his statement. Donald went cold but tried to pretend all was well.

"That's AOC, right? She was in my french class last semester." He said, hoping no one noticed the way his voice sounded raw.

Ben looked over at him sharply, his eyes wide. "Shut up, she'll hear you!" He hissed, leaning in.

He turned and glanced at AOC again, his breathing going out as she looked at the table, curiosity replacing the bored expression she had been wearing.

Tucker leaned back in his seat, a soft sigh tumbling out of his chest. "What, do you like her or something?" He asked, his face almost expressionless.

Everyone at the table chuckled as Ben somehow went even stiller.

"No! I do not like Alexandria. That's absurd." His voice seemed higher than normal.

"Awwww, someone's in looooove." Mitch sings songs.

Donald noticed AOC looking over again before grabbing her order and walking to the door. He considered calling out to her but decided better of it. He wasn't opposed to talking to her more, and Joe had been trying to get him to talk to the French Class Friends more, but given the current situation, he thought better of it.

Without realizing it he sighed deeply.

"What's wrong, missing your love?" Mitch said teasingly.

Donald looked off into the distance instead of answering.

"You still haven't talked to him have you?" Mike's voice was low, but oddly a little angry. Everyone else looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Ted asked, confusion laced in his voice. He was looking back and forth between Mike and Donald quickly.

Instead of replying, Donald crossed his arms and huffed. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to risk admitting he had made a mistake or being called out.

Tucker leaned in slowly, "Did something happened?" He sounded incredulous.

"We..." 

"Donald. We all spent too long setting you two up. Now, hypothetically, if something did happen, we would deserve to know." Ben was looking at him suspiciously.

He felt exhausted suddenly, and it was hard to find a way to reply, but somehow Donald mustered up the energy. "We got into a stupid fight." He finally said.

The table was silent.

Mike muttered something under his breath that Donald couldn't quite hear.

After a moment of silence, he continued, exasperated. "We found this stupid little house and we both wanted it but he cheated to win the house and now we're not talking!" He knew it wasn't the whole truth, and he even doubted that anything was true. His face felt hot, and he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing with his hands. Trying to appear normal, he took a hearty gulp of his egg nog.

"So. You're not talking to your boyfriend. Because he cheated to win a small house??" Ted finally said, breaking the thick silence.

"Yes! Okay! But it's his fault for being a big, phony cheater!" Donald suddenly wished he had brought a thicker coat because the room was freezing. He rubbed his palms together and realized they felt clammy. As he looked at his friends he realized his head felt off-kilter, as though it suddenly weighed ten extra pounds and his neck couldn't support the weight.

Tucker blinked slowly at him. "So let me get this straight. The man you spent months chasing yes?"

"Yeah?"

"You're just going to give up on him because he cheated to win some random thing you guys found?" As Tucker spoke, Donald felt as though he was swimming. He was desperately trying to push back the image of never seeing Joe again because of this. He would have to take his class next semester. Would he be able to see the professor every week if he let this go? Could he ever live with himself?

He tried to respond, but it felt like his throat was full of angry wasps. Even after gulping down some of his egg nog, the feeling remained. 

Eventually, he took a deep breath and tried to speak, ignoring the confused and worried looks on his friend's faces. "I'm not giving up on him. I just... It's complicated okay?" He barely managed.

Mike suddenly breaks his silence. "You love this boy, right Donald?"

It was that moment that his organs decided to stop working for him, and he felt as though his body had left him behind. "... Of course." He whispered, looking at the table. 

He didn't catch the way his friends looked at one another in evident concern.

"Donald..." Tucker's voice trailed off.

Ben picked it up, "You love him. Just talk to him. It's not that big of a deal, right?"

Donald wished for nothing more than to agree, but he couldn't comprehend doing so.

Mitch gingerly put his bloated hand on Donald's shoulder. "Just message him and say you're sorry."

At that a distant, but strong, the pit of *something* boiled in Donald's stomach. "I'm not going to apologize. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then don't apologize. Just forget about it and move on." Although he was still looking down, Donald could hear the eye roll from Ted's voice. 

He couldn't imagine just moving past this. He had spent his childhood and early teens trying to show Joe that he was just as good as the natural genius. He had watched the way the other man handled any and every social situation. There was no way the French professor would let them simply move on from this.

He would have to admit he made up the cheating in the spur of the moment. He would have to tell Joe, his sweet, loving, proud Joe, that he hadn't been able to handle losing to him. He would have to explain how he couldn't handle the thought of not winning in any capacity.

He couldn't do it.

"Donald?" Mike said softly.

"Yeah?" His voice was strained and sounded like it came from the end of a tunnel. The air felt hot now, and he wished he hadn't brought such a big jacket.

"Just talk to him." His friend said. Donald knew it was meant to be gentle, but it felt like an accusation. 

He stood up abruptly, not even registering the harsh squeak of the chair scraping the tile floor. He had to get out of there, the room was suffocating, the air thin. 

"I have to be somewhere." He knew it was bullshit. He knew his friends knew it was bullshit. He knew his voice sounded like it came from underwater.

From a world away, he heard someone mutter, "Here we go again." And just like that, he couldn't breathe. He could see Joe's face. He could see his friends. He could see their resentment and disappointment and lingering hatred.

The sound of Mike calling out to him didn't even reach his ears as he fumbled his way out of the cafe, vision blurry and unable to breathe. How he made it to his car he didn't know.

As he failed to open the door the third time, he felt someone roughly yank his shoulder back.

With that, he sank to the snow-covered ground, unable to take in his surroundings, not hearing his best friend say his name.

All he could see was Joe's look of disgust as the other man rejected him, pushed him away. He could hear the vile words his boyfriend would utter as he walked away. There was no fixing this. He had fucked up, and he was going to lose the one good thing he had. 

Air was a thing of the past. 

And then there was a sharp sting on his cheek, and he could see again and air filled his lungs. He could see Mike squatting in front of him, eyebrows drew tight, his mouth a thin line of concern. 

They just watched each other for a while.

"What really happened?" Mike asked as gently as he could.

Donald tried his best to pull in a shuddering breath, before explaining the truthful version of events. Mike simply listened as he went over how he had spoken without thought, his blatantly untrue accusations. He flinched as he recalled Joe's look of anger before the other man gave him the stupid little house and drove off. When Donald told Mike how he had tried to call initially, only to be ignored, his friends winced with him. 

As he finished, Mike pulled him up and opened the Jeep door. Donald leaned against it.

"I just... I don't know what came over me, Mikey. I didn't even want the house. I just wanted to win. And when I didn't..."

His best friend nodded.

"You have to apologize." He said. It was firm, but not unkind. 

The way his voice broke was pitiful even to his ears. "I can't." 

"You have to."

Donald finally noticed the tears running down his face. He tried to take another breath.

"I'll... I'll talk to him. Work something out... I promise." He said slowly. Mike nodded sharply.

Without another word, the sharp man turned and walked back into the cafe, not even looking back once.

Numb, Donald got into his car and did his best to drive home. He tried to push off his emotions and focus on the road, stay present, but it was only a couple of minutes before he was pulling into a random park parking lot.

He hopped the winter cold kept everyone away as a sob wracked his body.

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't picture what the next hour would look like, let alone the next day, or god forbid week.

Even Mike had harshly left him.

There was no way his other friends wouldn't find out the truth and abandon him.

Everyone was going to leave.

The sound of harsh sobbing filled the silence of his slowly cooling car, and the sting of the new cold felt like a fair price for his failure.

The idea of messaging Joe made bile rise into his throat, as his head pounded and his stomach revolted. His limbs felt heavy and he curled up in the seat. 

Threw the thick air, he reached for the phone and clicked to photos of him and Joe. It made his body ache even more as guilt ripped him apart. He could see his love's smiling, oblivious face.

With a sudden conviction, he messaged Joe.

"Can we talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long until this becomes me just projecting??? If my therapist saw this- omg lol she'd be like 😬👁️👄👁️  
> I mean 😏 i did write this to cope.   
> It's still ironic tho please laugh this is funny i SWEAR- just picture. Donald trump. And Joe Biden. like the actual ones. It's so much better.  
> Also did the pence and Donald comfort scene make me cry because I miss my best friend? Maybe! I just want them to be back already!   
> Anyways AOC is the only person I want to be seen respectfully 💅 full love to my queen. Everyone else you can laugh at tho   
> And uh! Friendly reminder that until the first hard scene break? Donald is still crying in his Jeep! Your welcome loves!

"Can we talk?"

Joe stared at his phone in shock. He wasn't expecting Donald to message him.

"What's wrong?" Kamala asked from her spot on Alexandria's bed. He didn't answer.

"Joe?" AOC chimed in.

He handed them his phone. 

After a moment Kamala spoke up again, "I don't get it?" 

He sighed before collapsing back in his bean bag chair. His friends watched him silently, letting him take his time. After a minute, Alexandria turned back to her computer and kept playing the game she was streaming, taking the pressure off of him. 

Without meaning too, Joe thought back to the last time he had seen Donald. They had been so happy together. Everything had been going amazingly.

He didn't know what had gone wrong.

After a while, he felt a cat jump up onto his chest, making him laugh quietly.

"We got into a fight. I don't know what happened." 

In the background, Alexandria hissed as she narrowly avoided being caught in her game. She turned around, interested, before going back to the game.

"Well... What DID happen?" She asked. 

The cat on his chest jumped off as he moved to sit up, and padded over to Kamala.

"It... It sounds stupid okay? But we were playing rock paper scissors for this little house I found. I didn't care about keeping it, and I thought we were just... Playing around..." He rubbed the back of his head, suddenly even more exhausted. His eyelids ached. "I don't know what happened... What I did wrong... But when I won, he got super mad and started saying I was cheating." Joe took a deep breath, trying to gather himself.

"I was so shocked I just gave him the stupid thing and drove off. We haven't talked since."

He looked up to see both of his friends staring at him, mouths ajar and eyes wide.

Kamala grunted and turned her head sharply, her irritation written clear as day on her face. From her desk Alexandria was still looking at him, her expression unreadable.

Finally, Alexandria spoke. "Tell me your joking. Please." With raised eyebrows and a hesitant voice, her words cut right into Joe and almost made him laugh.

"I wish I was. I was just... I can't believe he acted like that. It was so childish." 

Kamala finally chimed in, "Not to anyone's surprise of course. How long have we been warning you about that guy?" 

The worst part was, she wasn't wrong. His friends had been eager to bring him out of his shell, however short of a period they had known one another. They wanted him to experience as much of life as he could. But when they had realized how serious he was about Donald, a few of them had started to warn him about their peer. Although not the loudest, Kamala had, again and again, voiced her issues with the man's actions and words. 

"Kamala..." His voice died out.

"Joe, maybe you should talk to him, you're together now, and a healthy relationship requires communication." Alexandria was trying to speak gently, even as she focused on her streaming. 

"I... What would I even say? I still haven't processed what happened." 

"The best way to figure that out is to just start talking." 

Joe looked at his phone.

"Nono guys don't worry about it, just a friend going through relationship problems." She said to her viewers suddenly.

Kamala chuckled. "I kinda forgot you were streaming actually." She said. Joe was also reminded of this fact. 

It was a tightly held secret that Alexandria was the popular streamer behind the camera, and Joe and Kamala were some of the very few in on the secret.

"How much did your live hear?" Joe found himself asking. He knew that he should feel some kind of upset that he had said all of that in front of an untold amount of strangers, but strangely he didn't. He didn't feel anything.

"... They said all of it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw Kamala throw herself backward with a groan.

"You guys knew I was streaming to be fair." She said.

"Anyways Joe, you should just message him back, get the conversation going," Kamala said, not even looking up from her spot on the bed.

"What do I say?"

"Anything."

He sighed. And then he reached for his phone and went into the chat again. Dimly he realized that Donald would have known he saw the messaged and waited so long before replying. He felt his stomach drop before reminding himself that maybe if Donald hadn't flipped out, he wouldn't have been left on read.

He typed out the message slowly, wishing he felt something. "What do you want to talk about." 

He told his friends what he said, and after seeing the grimaces on their faces decided to go sit outside for the duration of the conversation. 

"I'll be back guys." He said as he walked into Alexandria's hallway. He heard them shout well wishes.

It wasn't even a minute later that he got a response.

"What happened the last time I saw you." 

Joe can't help but scoff at that as he sat down on the plush patio chair Alexandria has on her 3rd story balcony. 

"You mean when you suddenly got upset over losing a stupid game?" He replied. He hoped his tone got across, knowing that was nearly impossible. There's no way a text can carry the nights of shitty sleep, the anger and confusion, the longing... 

The chime took much longer than he expected. "Yeah..."

As he tried to reel in his anger, he thought about what to say. He could just leave Donald hanging. But it wasn't Joe's job to fix what Donald had broken. 

Finally, he tapped out a reply, relishing the way his fingers hit the keyboard of his phone. "Well? What do you want to say?"

A part of him knew that he should be trying to work through this, that maybe he should ask what was wrong, what had happened. He couldnt bring himself to do it.

There was no way that Joe had even a sliver of a clue how that message ripped Donald apart in another part of town, in a now freezing jeep, parked in some random park. He was blissfully unaware of the dry sobs fighting their way out of his boyfriend's lungs long after the last of his tears had been wrung from his body. The thought wouldnt cross his mind that Donald was fighting a losing war with himself to do so much as find something to say in response.

"Can we just talk Joe? It's been days. I miss you." Was what Joe finally received. The exhausted man scoffed yet again, his throat raw from so much more than just the cold Pennsylvania air.

Missed him? Joe felt a strange sense of anger stir somewhere foreign in his body. It wasn't something he was used to. In the past, he had had no issue letting others walk over him. Barack had seen him in one too many relationships that ended with him showing up at his best friend's house after days of radio silence, face tear-stained and...

That had changed. Joe wasn't falling down that road again.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before randomly freaking out on me over some random piece of crap *I* found. I didn't even care about keeping it. You could have just ASKED for it, Donald." 

Joe would have hoped his message wasn't rash, but after years of seeing this exact thing happen over and over again, and ignoring others' advice, he knew he had to put his foot down. He couldn't let Donald think that this was okay, it would only lead down a path of broken promises and chest filled with sob nights. 

"It's not like that, you know that." 

The quiet scream of frustration went unheard, but it did startle a couple of nearby birds into flying away. 

It wasn't the first time Joe had heard that line. But it was going to be the last.

"It wasn't? Okay then, tell me what exactly you remember happening? Because I remember spending several days on vacation with you, completely relaxed and happy, and then we come home, and out of the blue you flip your lid and start saying I cheated at ROCK PAPER SCISSORS DONALD. Am I missing something?" 

After at least a minute of watching the little typing bubbling pop up before disappearing again and again, he felt a sense of calm wash over his mind and body.

"Talk to me again when you grow the fuck up. Maybe then we can figure this out." 

As he went to mute all messages and calls from Donald's number and social media, he stood up harshly and walked back inside.

The room he walked back into was quiet, but content and calming. He was okay here, he felt loved and supported here.

A sense of safety washed over him as he snagged a blanket before collapsing into the bean bag chair again.

After allowing Joe a moment to gather himself, Alexandria spoke up softly. "How'd it go?"

A dry, mocking chuckle pushed itself out of his mouth.

"Like shit. I didn't give him the chance to belittle me. He couldn't muster up the courage to apologize." He unlocked his phone and tossed it to Kamala first, motioning to her to give it to Alexandria when she was done.

As Kamala read through it, Alexandria talkef to him. "Do you want me to mute my mic for this?" She said. He knew that her audience was generally pretty respectful of her and there likely would be no repercussions for this, but seeing as this was technically her job, and no one would know who was talking, he didn't care.

"It's fine. I'm sure your audience would love the extra drama. It's not that big of a deal." At his words he could see the audience chat explode, making him chuckle. 

Alexandria muted her mic for a moment, before leaning back, "You sure?" She asked, face kind.

"Yeah."

At that moment Kamala passed his phone over to her and then turned to him.

"So that was... A lot." Is what she decided to say.

Joe rolled his eyes. "I've been in too many relationships where I let this kind of stuff slide. I know where it leads. I'm not putting myself through that again. I deserve better." He said as he waves his hand.

His phone was passed back to him.

"Good for you," Alexandria said. 

"What's gonna happen now?" Kamala immediately chimed in.

"I'm not sure. That depends on what he decides to do. He can apologize. Or..." Joe's voice trailed off. He tried not to think about the or.

From her chair, Alexandria laughed under her breathe. "I'm sorry, sorry. The chat is enjoying this a little too much..." Her voice faded out as she snuck around her game map. 

"What are they saying?" Joe asked. 

Alexandria looked over, unsure before Kamala urged her on.

"They want to hear the full story lol. They think you're in the right to be mad but want 'the tea'." She grimaced as she spoke. "You don't have to say anything though. They'll be okay, won't you guys?" She faced her screen again, now speaking to her viewers.

Joe chuckled emotionlessly.

-

When Donald finally managed to drive home, he's surprised to make it back safely with how blurry his vision is. 

He's even more surprised when he safely parked in his parking spot and falls forward against his steering wheel, yet another empty sob pushing the limits of his raw throat and sore chest. 

He doesn't know how long it was before he mustered up the energy to drag himself into his flat. Time doesn't exist to him, and the freezing burn of his body only registered when the warmth of his home felt like a burn rather than a hug.

The water that he should have been drinking goes ignored as he collapsed into his bed. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur as he fell asleep, only to be awoken time and time again by the burn of guilt and anxiety in his chest. When he checked his phone it was 3 am, and he had a missed call from Mike, alongside a couple of messages. That only served to make his chest burn more, and if his body had the water to do so, he would have started sobbing again.

Because his body was strung out and dry, however, he simply turned over and fell back asleep. When he woke and saw the sun coming into the room, he was reminded of not even a week ago.

When he had woken up with Joe.

He screwwd his eyes shut and tried to fall back asleep.

He couldn't, so he simply lied under his blanket, trying his best not to think.

He was so far lost in his dread that he didn't hear his door open, or the footsteps that signaled someone else's presence. He didn't even register his best friend standing above him.

"Donald... Buddy... You have to get up."

He wished he could be anywhere else. He wished Mike would leave. He wished everything was okay. He wished the unrelenting March of time would cut him some slack.

Mike left the room, and Donald sighee in relief, trying to ignore the burn at the fact that his friend would give up and leave him so easily. There's no surprise though, he doesn't deserve Mike's friendship. 

When someone pulled him up and gently shaked him, he struggled to open his eyes. There was a glass of water in front of him, and Mike had a bowl of cereal in his other hand. 

"Drink this. Then eat this. I'm going to find you something to wear after your shower." That's all his friend said before setting the bowl down on the nightstand and walking away to Donald's closet. 

To his surprise, the water soothed his throat. Knowing the consequences of ignoring Mike's advice, he ate as much of the cereal as he coukd. By the time he was done, Mike was back with a pair of his Pajamas and a towel.

"Go take a shower. When you're done I have ice cream in the freezer." Mike squeezed his shoulder before walking out. Dimly, Donald heard his friend jump onto the large couch and turn on some show. In his shock, he managed to get up and move to his shower.

It passed in a daze, and he couldn't recall a single moment, but by the time he stepped out and dried off, he felt a little better.

How mad can Mike be if he's here doing this?

Unless... He just feels guilty. Or obligated. 

Donald sunk onto the floor, his chest pounding, thoughts spinning out of control.

And then there's a loud pounding on the door, making him jump. "Hey! I know you're done in there. Stop hiding. I don't have you, you're okay, and I don't hate you. I'm here because I'm your best friend, and best friends don't abandon one another."

Donald got up. There was a weird sense of deja vu, and if he didn't feel so numb, he would laugh. This wasn't anything new. Mike was no stranger to Donald's episodes and knew exactly how to help his friend stabilize. It was the same way Donald knew how to help Mike. 

As he opened the door, he was greeted by Mike's gentle face, the one he reserved for these moments. They didn't say anything as Mike guided them into the living room and grabbed the two bowls of rocky road ice cream, Donald's favorite.

It was just as silent as they sat on the couch and Mike handed him his favorite blanket.

It didn't matter how long they sat there. It didn't matter that long after the third bowl of ice cream had been set aside a single word hadn't been spoken.

All that mattered was being there.

When Donald finally spoke, Mike put all of his attention onto him. "I tried to talk to him... But he got mad before I could say anything. He told me not to talk to him until I could grow up. Mike I-" A hiccup stopped him as he tried not to cry again. 

Mike patted his shoulder, forcing another glass of water into his hands. Donald gulped it down eagerly.

"Breathe Donald." That was all he said. His voice was gentle, assured. It was constant.

"I don't know what to do." 

"Apologize."

"How?"

"I can't figure that out for you. But it should be in person." 

Mike got up to refill the waters, and on his way grabbed the bowls. As Donald tried not to break down sobbing again, his best friend refilled the ice cream yet again. This time he also brought back some oranges and Cheetos. 

"I can't do it, Mike..." The sense of dread somehow doubled at the confession but also disappeared completely.

With the same assuring, harsh but caring nature he always used, Mike sat back down and spoke carefully. "Yes, you can. I've seen you do it before. I'll see you do it again. 

Donald gulped down the new glass of water, setting it down at half empty.

"Should I message him?"

"Are you ready too?" 

"I think so."

"What will you say?"

At that, Donald paused. 

"I'll apologize. And ask to meet up somewhere neutral."

"Good idea. Here's your phone. I took the liberty of charging it while you showered." Mike offered him his phone. Donald was slightly amazed. True to his word, the phone was halfway charged, instead of dying as it should be. 

He took a deep breath. Messaged Joe.

Joe replied.

He tried to not cry.

They agreed on a time and a place.

-

The park wasn't empty, but it was nowhere near as full as it usually was in the summer. Joe had bundled up again, drinking the hot coffee he had gotten in the way. He missed the fire-heated hot cocoa.

He had arrived a little early, hoping to make sure Donald didn't run off before they could talk. Although he was happy the other had decided to talk (and in person too!) he felt that he couldn't be too cautious. 

It was exactly the agreed-upon time when Joe spotted Donald walking up. He looked completely worn out. Despite everything, Joe felt a twinge of sympathy. He had no idea how to act, but he could at least relate to the bones deep exhaustion his boyfriend seemed to feel.

When they were finally close enough, Joe spoke. "Hey, Donald..." That was all he said.

To his surprise, Donald vaulted forwards and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug. 

"I'm so sorry Joe. I'm so god damn sorry. I didn't mean it, I don't know what came over me-" His words became indistinguishable as sobs overtook him. Joe suddenly felt tears prickle his own eyes, and he simply hugged the warm body back. 

"I'm sorry too." Joe whispered, leaning back just enough to kiss Donald gently. They went quiet for a moment, simply existing. 

When Joe leaned back, Donald let out a tiny sob.

"You didn't do anything, Joe. I was being a child... You didn't deserve that." Donald managed to say before resting his head on Joe's shoulder heavily.

"No... I was being a child too." As he pet Donald's hair, Joe sighed. He had missed his compliment. He had missed him so so much. 

After a while, Joe moved back and pulled Donald to a bench, sitting beside him.

"I'm sorry Joe," Donald said again, his voice muffled in Joe's shoulder.

"I accept your apology." Joe whispered, too tired to say more. 

They sit like that for a while.

Then, curiosity getting the better of him, Joe asked with a small smile, "What... What did happen?"

Donald went still at that and then lent lack, not looking at Joe.

"I don't even know. I didn't even care about the house. I just... It was like I couldn't handle the idea of losing to you. It was stupid I know but I panicked and-"

"You panicked?" Joe interrupted. Just like that, he's sitting next to a faceless ex, making the same tired excuse. The smile dropped. They didn't mean to... It wouldn't happen again... They didn't know what had come over them...

Donald's eyes went wide. "Joe- Joe not like that- I PROMISE it's not like that. It was just something small that spiraled out of control-" Even as Joe stared at Donald hollowly the man tried to reach him. "Joe, please. Please you have to believe me. It wasn't like that- I'm sorry." 

Donald reached for Joe's shoulder, but before it could land Joe stopped it. He laughed mirthlessly. "Donald. Do you know how many times I've heard that? And let it go? And-" His eyes went blank as he remembered the and. Not again. 

Donald frantically tried to think of something to say. Some way to fix this.

"Joe-"

"I don't want to see you anymore." Joe stood up and then sat down. "Just go." 

"Joe please list-"

"Go. I don't want to see you okay? It's not happening again." Joe turned away. 

In a daze, Donald stood up and looked at the love of his life one last time before leaving. He wouldn't stay if he wasn't wanted. 

As Donald faded out of sight, Joe began to sob. He didn't care that he was in public. He pulled his legs up and rested his head on them as the damns finally broke. He didn't want this to be happening.

But he wasn't going to let it happen again.

He valued himself too much now. 

How much time passed as he sat there crying he didn't know. But he did know that for some reason someone was trying to talk to him. He looked up to tell them to go away and saw one of Donald's friends.

"Hey! Joe, right? You're dating my friend Donald! It's good to see you! Hey! Weird question but I think I like one of my friends and I mean? Do you any advice on how to get his attention? He seems head over heels for this stupid girl and i-"

Joe couldn't even respond. Luckily the man seemed to realize something was wrong.

"Hey uh. Are you okay?" He said.

Joe just stared at him, almost angry at his lack of social cues.

"I'm so sorry, you don't even know me! I'm Tucker! Tucker Carlson?" The man kept talking. Joe didn't care.

"Does this have to do with Donald? Something was off with him the other day too. Mitch thinks he's in one of his moods YET AGAIN. He's such a baby isn't he?" The man, Tucker kept on going. Joe was so stunned he didn't even tell him to piss off.

"Did something happen with you guys? Did you break up? I bet you did huh. Did Donald do something? It's always something with him you know, you're better off." Tucker pulled out his phone as Joe took this in. "Well, I should be going. I'm going to try and get that friend I mentioned to come to see this show with me! Maybe I'll make my move then!"

As Tucker walked off as soon as he had come, Joe was left with the realization that this wasn't a fluke or accident. Donald's friends thought this was normal. That he had a history of going off like that. Joe shuddered. What would have happened if he had let this go on? How long until he ended up-

Joe stopped his thought process there. He wasn't going to think about it. He was going to go home and mourn what could have been. He was going to swear off boys yet again. 

As Joe stood up to go to his car, Tucker messaged Donald, yet again completely missing any social cues. 

"Hey! Just saw your ex-boyfriend, Joe, sobbing in the park! You guys break up already? What did you do this time huh? Ignore his messages for a week straight while you lay in bed or something? Sounds like you. Typical. Anyways! I'm here for you if you want to talk about it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😏 your welcome  
> I'm sorry   
> But you're welcome  
> Anyways! Trauma reveal next chapter 😏


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disrespect to everyone in this fanfic, but especially this chapter. It's hard to write a fulfilling conclusion and still paint everyone in the shitty light they deserve, so here's me saying everyone in here is a war criminal and I'd say fuck you to them with my full chest.  
> I'm sorry for the pain i might have caused anyone with the previous chapters 😏 but i need you to understand that if you cried like i did reading about Donald Trump and Joe Biden suffering from relationship problems, that's fucking hilarious.  
> Uuuuuh anyways sorry this is late here you go.

There were many things Barack Obama was certain about. He knew the best way to help his students. He knew the ins and outs of his best friend. He knew who killed Princess Dianna.

What he didn't know was why Mike Pence had invited him out to see this movie. 

Sure, he just so happened to have it hard for the other man, but he was fairly certain those feelings weren't reciprocated. For one, Mike wore nothing but suits.

That in of itself spoke for the matter.

So why were they in line for some cheesy romance movie that Hallmark could have done better? Why was Mike leaning close and murmuring jokes in his ear? And why had the shorter man insisted on giving him his gloves when he saw Barack hadn't brought any? 

Barack was a man who took his time contemplating the world around him before making decisions and speaking, which was why he had yet to say much of anything. His brain moved like an overstuffed bear one moment and a near starving hummingbird the next. 

After realizing that Micheal was looking at him expectantly, he felt flustered. He had gotten tied up in his thoughts again.

"Can you, uh, repeat that Micheal?" He said, the softness of his voice failing to be hidden behind his usual self-assured tone.

"Oh, I was just saying that it's a shame what's happening with Donald and Joe, after everything we did to see them together," Mike replied, looking away hesitantly. Barack couldn't tell where the topic of choice had come from, nor could he tell what he was meant to say in response.

He took a deep breath. "I, uh, suppose so. Joey... Joe, uh, knows his worth. He knows how to, uhh, keep himself safe now." The way the shorter man turned and looked up in confusion told Barack that he had said too much. He was the only one who knew the extent of what Joe had been through with his exes. He was the only one to stick around and help put back together with the pieces of his long-time best friend. 

Mike was silent for a while and didn't speak again until they had gotten their tickets and sat in the mostly empty theatre room.

"You know... It's not my place to say, but whatever Joe went through, he misunderstood Donald. Don went through a lot as a kid, and he carries that. He's gotten a lot better in recent years though. He got even better with Joe...." He trailed off, staring into the distance with a disgruntled expression. 

Barack took his time digesting that. He knew Joe well enough to know exactly what had spooked his best friend off. He had supported his actions because he knew the warning signs. 

It was far from immediately calling to tell Joe that he had it all wrong and he had to take Donald back. But the vague words got him thinking.

"It's not our, uh, place to interfere," Mike looked over sharply, as though startled back to reality, "but... I think Joe was, uh, happier. With Donald."

Mike nodded slowly, then looked over at a pair of teenagers giggling in the back of the theatre. They weren't close enough to hear the conversation, but their presence set Barack on edge again. He remembered that he still didn't know the purpose of this excursion. 

After a moment, Mike gently grabbed Barrack's hand and squeezed it. "Donald was happier too. A better person. He's miserable now. It's hard to look at him these days." Of course, Barack was dutifully taking this in and processing it, but he was also screaming internally. Mike's hand was soft and warm, and also holDING HIS HAND. 

After too many moments of silence, Mike looked over with a questioning face. It seemed he was about to apologize when Barack remembered to speak. 

"Joe is the same. He thinks he did the right thing - I'm, uh, still on the fence," Mike smiled conspiratorially, "but he can barely get out of bed anymore."

"Maybe they should see if they're really on the same page if you know what I mean?" Mike's voice was hesitant, and he looked away as he's said it, as though he thought it was the wrong thing.

"I think it would be, uhh, best if they took another look at the situation given the... New information on the situation." Barack said, flipping his hand to squeeze Mike's, which still was on top of his hand. It was hard to tell in the darkroom, but Mike almost seemed starstruck.

And then the movie started. 

It was even worse than either thought it would be, which made it even better than either had even hoped for. 

Barack finally figured out the nature of the movie-going when the film ended and Mike leaned over. There was no mistaking the intentions of the soft, still warm but shaking hands gently cupping his face as Mike asked to kiss him, vulnerability written clear as day on his face. All the confirmation he needed came in the form of tender lips pressed against his own. 

-

Joe was lying in his bed. Again. He didn't know what day it was, he didn't care. He knew that it was daytime because the light of the sunburned his eyes, but what time of day he had no clue. He cared faintly that his curtains were open, but not enough to get up to close them.

He thought that maybe it was the day Barack had promised to come over. Logically he knew he needed to get up and put on his costume, to through off at least some impending concern. The thought of checking his phone passed his mind, but it was soon discarded in favor of rolling over to curl up tightly around himself.

God.

He hated himself.

Thoughts of regret tended to fill his mind. Donald's face as he told him to leave. The sound of his broken voice. Memories of how amazing things had been before.

The idea of apologizing and coming back crossed his mind often, banished time and time again flashbacks to what going back had always meant.

Flowers and chocolate and kisses to form a bandaid that was meant to conceal a scar that time had yet to heal. And then all too soon words and actions to tear open the scar that had finally begun to scab over. 

He didn't need to relearn that lesson again. 

After an unknown amount of time - Joe couldn't separate one moment from the next, let alone hours - he heard knocking at his door. He knew it was Barack, and that his friend would be able to read him for his misery like a book. This made Joe consider simply ignoring the increasingly loud knocks. But then he realized that would only serve to make his friend more worried.

So he sat up. He grabbed his sweater. He walked to his door and opened it.

Just as he expected, he saw Barack raising his fist to knock yet again.

"Joey! Buddy! How are you doing!" Barack asked. The question was hollow, his friend could see exactly how he was doing with one look.

"Swell. You?" 

He had expected concern or worry, but to his surprise, but approval, he saw hesitant excitement fill Barrack's expression.

"I'm, uh, doing mighty fine." Barack ducked inside without explanation.

Doing his best to put on an air of at least semi-okayness, Joe bumped his friend's shoulder. "What, did something happen? You finally confess your undying love for Mike or something?"

Barack's eyes went wide and he blushed.

"Wait." Joe smiled, a real smile, "did you?" He bounced on his toes, moving as he tried to catch his friend's eyes.

"Well... Actually-" 

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"He took me out. I didn't know it was a date until the end when he, uh, kissed me." Barack finally met his eyes, a shy smile on his face.

"No way. You're pulling my leg." Joe couldn't believe his ears.

"Yeah well..." Barack finally looked away, now smiling fondly. 

"Again! Why didn't you tell me sooner!" He demanded.

"I just came from his place." 

Joe of course demanded all of the details, and they spent the next several hours gushing over the turn of events and details. By the end of it, they had both calmed down and were making lazy jokes at one another.

After a while, Barack quieted down and seemed to be lost in thought. Joe tried to give him space, but eventually, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Come on Barack! What are you thinking about now?" Joe teased, thinking his best friend was thinking about Mike again.

Barack was silent for a moment, before turning to look him in the eyes. "Are you sure about Donald?" He said with an intensity Joe hadn't seen in a while.

It startled him for many reasons.

"What do you mean?" He sputtered, his mood rapidly falling. Joe didn't want to think about Donald at the moment.

Barack gave one of his deep, soul-shattering sighs that made you question everything you had ever known.

"I don't know Joe. Are you ready to give up on him that easily?" 

Confusing anger and betrayal coursed through his blood like fire on oil rig water.

"Give up? Have you forgotten everything that I've been through? How I- how-" His voice cut off as his throat closed. 

"Of course not," Barack said placatingly.

"How could you say that?" It was a whisper.

"I think... We were wrong about him." Joe looked up sharply before Barack rushed uncharacteristically on. "I'm not saying you should get back together. But maybe you guys should talk one more time? Just... Settle things one more time? Make sure this is what you both want?" 

Pulling in a deep, sharp breathe felt like swallowing a sword for Joe. Yet he did it. 

"Are you... Are you saying I should talk to him? You've never said that before. For anyone. You always told me to leave immediately." Although his voice wasn't angry anymore, it was confused enough to still be harsh around the edges. 

"Exactly. But you've always had a taste for the wrong people. I don't think... Uh, that Donald is, uh, wrong people." 

"No?" Joe couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't even process any of this. Half of his instincts screamed that Barack was dead wrong, that Donald would end up hurting him just like the others. The other half shouted that finally! Someone was talking sense! 

He spoke hesitantly. "What... What should I do?" 

Barack, of course, looked up in surprise at this. "Whatever you want. If you think I'm wrong then screw him. If you think I might be right... Then, uh, that's up to you Joey pal." 

"I don't know what to do," Joe said as he looked at his hands. Hands that had fit perfectly into Donald's. Hands that had loved and been loved. 

"That's okay! Take your, uh, time! It's up to you." Barack rushed.

Nothing much happened after that. Barack left not too long after, and Joe stumbled back to bed before passing out. As much as he had slept the past couple of days, he figured he would be wide awake. Sleep took him as a puppy a new toy. 

At some point, he woke up and in a sleep drunk haze tapped out a message to the one person he had wanted to never speak to again. In the morning he would be surprised to see it and have no memory of sending it. 

"I'm sorry." 

It was two words. It came after days of silence. After telling Donald to leave. That he didn't want to see him. It came after breaking something that was blossoming into something beautiful and new and loving. 

When Donald finally managed to climb out of his own haze that was his waking and sleeping hours, he barely thought to check his phone. But he knew it was dead, and if he missed another call from Mike, his best friend was going to tear him a new one.

So he plugged it in and went to get a glass of chocolate milk.

When he came back, he turned it on to make sure there weren't any missed calls. He almost missed the message. When he saw it he thought he had miss saw.

Then he clicked Joe's messages. There was the text. From 4 in the morning. It was hours old. 

Joe was sorry. Joe had messaged him. Joe reached out. 

Donald realized that his chest was burning with the sob he was unconsciously holding. He let it out. 

Then he fumbled with his phone and without a second thought hit the call button. He didn't have time to regret his actions before the line picked up and a bleary voice said hello.

"Joe." He gasped, so much emotion crammed into the one word that it was nearly incomprehensible.

"Donald?" The sound of the voice of his love brought fresh, hot tears to Donald's eyes as he scrambled for something to say.

After a moment of trying not to let his sobs be heard, he managed a shitty reply. "Don't be sorry. Please don't apologize. You didn't-" a sob cut him off and he gasped for air, "you didn't do ANYTHING wrong."

The line was silent.

"Can we talk?" Joe asked quietly.

Donald couldn't even process that.

"What- what do you want to talk about?" There was no 'please' or 'you have to...' but the sentence sounded like begging none the less.

".... The last time I saw you," Joe whispered into the phone. His words were crackled by the connection, but Donald managed to decipher them nonetheless.

"Joe..." Donald couldn't find words.

"I was hasty... I got scared-"

"Can we talk in person, please? It doesn't have to be... A thing... But if you're comfortable I would rather explain myself in person." Donald didn't mean to cut off Joe, but he also couldn't stand hearing the other man try to explain a mistake he hadn't made. 

"Yeah- yeah that's... That's okay." Joe stumbled out after a couple of moments of heart-wrenching silence. 

Donald sighed in relief, and although his eyes and throat still burned, the sobs were calling down. "Where do you want to meet up? It can be somewhere public? Anywhere you want?" 

Joe was again, silent. Then, "Can you come over?" Donald was silent in shock. "I'm sorry- if that's uncomfortable- we can. We could go somewhere you want- would be comfortable at. I haven't left my house in days- I'm sorry-" he began to ramble quickly, his breath lost in the dust of his words as they seemed to run a marathon. 

"If that's what... You want to. And you're okay with it? Then it's fine." Donald said as softly as he could.

"Oh." Joe exhaled. "...you sure?" He asked earnestly but quietly.

"Yeah." Donald breathed.

"Okay." 

The line was silent for several minutes as they both absorbed what was happening. 

Donald finally realized a more important question. "When... When do you want me to come over?"

Joe breathed in gently, as though he had forgotten they were calling.

It took him another moment to respond. "Whenever you want... I don't have anything to do." 

"Can I come over right now?" Donald asked eagerly, hoping it wasn't too soon. 

"I- if you want to... That's okay." 

"Are you sure? It's okay if you need some time Joe-" he tried to reassure the other man.

"Yeah... Yeah, that's okay." 

"Okay... I'll be over in about half an hour? I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done Joe." Donald said softly.

"Donald-"

"Goodbye Joe..." He mumbled before hanging up.

Joe starred at his phone in muted shock. 

That had never happened before. They never apologized. They never asked what he wanted, or admitted they were wrong. 

Even with the sweet words, they always twisted the blame onto Joe. 

Donald had refused to allow blame to fall onto him.

Joe finally looked up. 

Then he realized that Donald was coming over. He would be there soon. And Joe had barely left his bed in DAYS. 

He stood up in a panic and rushed to his bathroom. Be didn't have time for a shower, so he tried to wash his face before rushing to find some outfit that wasn't dirty.

Then he left his room to see the state of his apartment. It wasn't a mess but it was nowhere near his normal standard. He knew he couldn't clean it in the time he had, and honestly, he didn't have the energy to do so. So he settled for picking up enough to make it appear halfway decent before anxiously sitting on the couch.

By the time his leg started to feel sore from the rapid bouncing, he decided to message Barack.

Barack, unexpectedly, messaged him back to say he was busy at the moment on another date, and to message one of his other friends. The sting that should have been felt at the dismissal didn't come, as Joe was able to spot the subtle undertones of the message. He had other friends. That he could rely on. 

So he did.

He didn't tell them what was happening, but he did talk to various friends to pass the time and calm his nerves. By the time Donald was knocking at his door his leg was no longer jack rabbiting, and he even had a fond smile.

The moment he opened the door that all disappeared as anxiety overwhelmed him.

Donald looked horrible. He seemed to have done the same thing as Joe, but with less time to seem presentable. 

Joe couldn't control the small giggle that fell out. He tried to cover his mouth in a panic, trying to not laugh again. Donald simply stared at him, eyes wide as fear consuming his every feature.

"I'm sorry... It's just- you look like you've been fairing the same way I have-" Joe said finally, trying to dispel the thick tension.

It didn't seem to work. "Oh. Oh no. Joe, I'm so sorry I didn't mean-" 

"It's okay." Joe cut him off.

"It's not." Donald took a deep breath. "What I did wasn't okay. I didn't come here to make excuses. I was acting like a child, and you didn't deserve it. What you deserve is an explanation. And an apology." 

Joe stared, his jaw unhinged and eyes wide. He had never heard anything like that before. 

"If you'll let me? It's okay if you don't want to-to to hear anything. Or if you want me to leave- I can go?" Donald said to fill the silence.

Joe blinked rapidly. "What?" That was all he managed to say.

"Do you- do you want me to go? It's okay if you do?" The slightly taller man said.

Instead of answering the subtle question, Joe opened his door wider and beckoned Donald in.

The man stared, his expression questioning. Joe nodded.

The next few hours were filled with tears and halting sentences as both men talked about the events of their lives that had lead to their behavior. There were many breaks for water and to breathe. It was hard to remain level headed as they discussed their memories and tried to explain themselves. Donald found it difficult to watch Joe relate his past relationships with all the pain it brought, despite how much the other needed it. Joe found it difficult to watch Donald relate his childhood, although the man tried to say numerous times that his past was nowhere near the level of Joe's.

It was an argument they lay at rest before it could begin.

Although it wasn't perfect, it was enough for the two men to finally understand each other. Donald's behavior wasn't excused, but Joe was willing to let him make up for it. And Joe's behavior, even though it was excusable regardless of any past circumstances, now made perfect sense. 

At the end of the night, Donald insisted on going home to give Joe the space he needed.

In the morning, however, he did invite his love over to his flat, saying he wanted to give him something.

Joe went over, confused but not hesitant. 

When he arrived, Donald let him in and offered him something to drink. There was now much more than simply water, and Joe took a glass of orange juice.

Then Donald disappeared into his room and returned with his hand gently closed around something.

Joe looked at him in confusion, and when Donald finally was within an arm's length away, the other man opened his fist and gently placed the tiny white-colored house into Joe's hand.

There was a gasp, and loss of words from Joe. He had forgotten all about the stupid house after their fight and consequential breakup. 

"Donald..." He whispered.

"Keep it. you found it. I didn't even really want it in the first place, you know that... And, you deserve it. I'm sorry for the way I acted." The standing man said as he wrapped Joe's fingers around the trinket.

"Thank you..." Joe whispered as he looked up from their connected hands. Donald smiled gently down at him.

The sunset on that January 20th had subtle blues and widespread pinks and reds. It told the story of thousands of lovers with intricate webs of color and vibrance. The clouds that floated through the sky absorbed the color like cotton paint, creating a cotton candy haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! Btw, this is NOT a sign to go back to your toxic ex! You left them for a reason, never doubt yourself queen/king/monarch!   
> I'll admit everyone is a bit out of character but YOU try writing them getting back together in a healthy way that's in character.  
> Shout out to my long notes but 😏✋.  
> I swear to god i just write 12k crack fics to project all of my issues onto cause I find it funny and don't know how to talk to my therapist.   
> Hope you enjoyed? Idk

**Author's Note:**

> The US capitol: is stormed by crazy Trump supporters  
> Me, a random person: wow! Time to write about Donald Trump getting boned by Joe Biden and their relationship!


End file.
